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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293294">Horse Hair and Cucco Feathers</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usagisama68/pseuds/Usagisama68'>Usagisama68</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Linked Universe - Fandom, The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Linked Universe (Legend of Zelda), Luckily we know just the farmgirl to give him one, Talon is a good dad, Time (Linked Universe) Needs a Hug, past angst, they're in LOVE your honour</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:22:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,129</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28293294</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usagisama68/pseuds/Usagisama68</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A gentle hand on her cheek had quelled the burning fires within her. Of course her kind, selfless, endlessly giving Fairy Boy could never abandon those who needed him. The years spent living with her at the ranch had given him the body of a farmer, but he would always have the spirit of a hero. </p><p>Denying him this would be like denying the breath in his lungs. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Malon (Legend of Zelda)/Time (Linked Universe)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Horse Hair and Cucco Feathers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I wrote this back in August for the Linked Universe Zine. Please check it out if you haven't already! Everyone who took part is super talented.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Night time at the Lon Lon Ranch was much the same. The full moon cast dark shadows on fencing and hay bales, silhouetting the shapes that moved around an open paddock in the centre. Large windows spilled bright light onto the summertime grass, and the languid silence was broken only by the occasional cry of a stray cucco and muffled laughter. </p><p>A low <em> creak </em> cut through the still night as the barnhouse door inched open and a silhouette appeared in the frame. A few curious heads turned towards the disturbance, before returning to their night time snack. </p><p>Malon felt the cold breeze hit her face as she stepped barefoot onto the grass and allowed it to chase away the flush in her cheeks. The door swung shut behind her, but it did little to muffle the ruckus within. A fond smile wormed its way onto her lips as she lifted her skirts and settled on the ground, uncaring of the stains it would leave on her clothes.</p><p>She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, allowing the familiar scent of horse hair and cucco feathers to wash over her. This smell had comforted her since she was a little girl. It was the smell of home; promises of a warm fire and warmer arms. But now it wasn’t enough. It was home, yes, but it wasn’t <em> home</em>. Not anymore. </p><p>How long had it been since her Fairy Boy had moved in with them? He had arrived at the ranch one cloudy morning; twitchy like a jackrabbit with eyes far older than their tender years. In her innocence, she had not recognised the haunted look on his face as he clutched an ocarina close to his chest, flinching away from her attempts to help him. </p><p>“He’s been through a lot.” Her father had murmured to her that night, hugging her close as if afraid she would be stolen away. “His eyes… I saw the same look on the faces of those poor soldiers broken by the war. But in one so young...” When he leaned back his eyes were wearier than she had ever seen them. “We’re going to help him, Little Foal. He’s going to need us.” </p><p>That night she had watched as her friend battled unseen demons in his sleep. It would be years before she understood the true implication of her father’s words, but even she had seen the suffering and exhaustion that plagued her friend’s every breath. When the sun rose over the horizon, she took hold of his hand and made a promise to whatever deity was listening.</p><p>She would protect her Fairy Boy. </p><p>His palms had been rough; calloused and scarred in a way that was so familiar but unusual. Her own hands were littered with them as well, a product of years spent handling horses and moving hay bales. But his were different. These weren’t the markings caused by picking horse shoes, but scars from endless fighting and massive swords that small arms should never have held.</p><p>But everything fades with time.</p><p>Soon, his palms had begun to mirror hers; reflections of a hardworking present instead of a bloody past. The shadows in his gaze faded, he stopped jumping at every small noise and his smiles became bright and genuine. </p><p>It felt natural that they become something more than friends; a family in every sense of the word. On their wedding night, she had watched his peaceful face illuminated in the moonlight, as she had all those years before, and repeated that promise in her mind.</p><p>Now, the damp grass seeped through her skirt where she sat alone in the chilly night air. That promise had been doomed from the start.</p><p>It had been many months since her husband was forced away on another adventure. Months since she had awoken in the middle of the night to his thrashing beside her, pale and crying out in his sleep. Muffled sobbing had filled the room as she wrapped her arms around him and hushed, his favourite lullaby falling from her lips as she gently rocked them back and forth. </p><p>They were no strangers to nightmares, but when she kissed his brow and coaxed him from the depths of his mind, she had known something was different. He had clung to her with the desperation of a drowned man; face pressed into her chest as if listening for every heartbeat.</p><p>As the first light of dawn spilled through their window, mixed with tear tracks and shadows long buried, she had gazed into his eyes and <em> knew</em>. </p><p>Hylia wasn’t ready to let her husband rest.</p><p>She had wanted to scream, to run outside and yell herself hoarse at the heavens. Her husband had given his childhood and peace of mind for the whims of a cruel Goddess and now she wanted <em> more</em>? Hadn’t he gone through enough already? </p><p>But a gentle hand on her cheek had quelled the burning fires within her. Of course her kind, selfless, endlessly giving Fairy Boy could never abandon those who needed him. The years spent living with her at the ranch had given him the body of a farmer, but he would always have the spirit of a hero. Denying him this would be like denying the breath in his lungs. </p><p>The next morning, she had helped him drag out a dusty old chest full of the past he kept locked away. His hands trembled as he pulled out mask after mask; a look of sorrow in his eyes that would haunt her in the following weeks. </p><p>Still, she had dressed her husband in chainmail, placed a sword at his hip and smiled in reassurance when he brushed a stray lock of her hair.</p><p>Oh, her Fairy Boy…</p><p>But she hadn’t said a word, knowing that if she acknowledged the unspoken thought between them they would both break down. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and saw him off with a kiss; lingering and gentle and full of promises.</p><p>“Take care of yourself, Fairy Boy.” </p><p>Only after the dark portal engulfed her love and stole him away had her legs given out and her body shook with supressed tears. </p><p>She would not let herself cry. </p><p>From dawn to dusk she had laboured away, throwing herself into her work with more vigour than she had in years. Her father’s stares followed her, a knowing look in his eyes as he watched her grind herself into the ground. It was worth it, as by nightfall she was too exhausted to notice the empty spot beside her, too tired to hear her goodnight echo unanswered into the shadows.</p><p>Then the first letter arrived. </p><p>She had thought it was a trick at first; a cruel joke meant to give her false hope. But she had recognised the handwriting scrawled lovingly onto the envelope, the same script that she had taught him herself so long ago.</p><p>After the first letter came a second and then a third. Soon, she was receiving an update from her husband every week. </p><p>He knew better than to downplay or sugarcoat the dangers he was going through, but simply knowing what was happening helped set her mind at ease. Surprisingly, most of his letters focussed on those he was travelling with instead of the adventure itself. Heroes who shared her husband's spirit, all brought together through some divine intervention. </p><p>At first, he had expressed regret that these boys, many of them not yet into adulthood, had been forced on this dark quest with him. Hylia, he had mused, must have a soft spot for child soldiers. But soon his letters were filled with praise for their skill, respect for their courage and, although he tried to hide it, a deep fondness for their character. She had to keep reminding him to tell her about himself or they would be all he wrote about. </p><p>She could feel the care her husband felt towards this group of heroes grow with each pen stroke, and bit by bit she too began falling in love with them through his words. Even if she still giggled at the nicknames they gave each other.</p><p>Those letters were kept safe where no damage could befall them, but his most recent letter she always kept tucked into her clothes; a comforting reminder that her Fairy Boy was alive and well. </p><p>A horse snorted in the distance, bringing her back to the present. She often found herself lost in memories on nights like these, when it was almost too easy to reread his words and imagine they were being spoken next to her, instead of thousands of years apart. The soft crinkling of paper reached her ears as she placed a hand over her pocket and smiled. </p><p>She wouldn’t be needing those words tonight.</p><p>A wash of warm air chased away the surrounding chill as the door opened once more. The murmur of voices carried through the doorway, broken briefly by a trill of laughter before it swung shut again. She didn’t bother to turn around as the grass crunched under approaching footfalls; she would recognise that gait anywhere.</p><p>“Are we boring you in there?” Her husband teased, and a genuine smile spread across her face at the sound of his voice. Oh, how she had missed it. </p><p>The steady presence settled on the ground beside her and she immediately reached out to entwine their fingers in the grass.</p><p>Her expression faltered.</p><p>His hands were rough still, but the familiar callouses of a simple farmer were once again replaced with the scars of a soldier. She squeezed his hand tighter and reminded herself of all the good he was achieving, and the smile returned to her lips when he squeezed back just as tight.</p><p>“Of course not. It’s just been so long since the house was so lively, I needed a bit of fresh air.” Her heart melted all over again as she turned to look at him.</p><p>A soft glow peeked through the cracks in their door and sent golden highlights across his hair and face, setting fire to his markings and illuminating his tender expression as he gazed back at her. Stray winds ruffled their clothes and the persistent munching of horses echoed in the background as her husband brushed a loose hair from her cheek. She reached up to cup his hand in hers and revelled in his warmth, leaning into his palm and closing her eyes.</p><p>Anyone watching might mistake them for Honey and Darling, but she honestly didn't care. Her Fairy Boy was home.</p><p>They jumped apart as a shout echoed behind them. The moment was broken, and by the time they turned to stare at the slightly ajar window, the startled yelps had turned to laughter once more. </p><p>The two of them shared a look before she snorted and burst into muffled giggles.</p><p>“They sure know how to have a good time.” She breathed out through barely concealed laughter. “It’s a good thing father isn’t here or he’d never get any sleep.” </p><p>“They’re a handful, I’ll give you that.” Malon turned to him again, grinning cheekily at the fond look on his face. He noticed her expression and frowned. “What?” </p><p>“You’ve gone soft.” She sang, poking a finger into his chest and smiling wider at his scoff of indignation.</p><p>“Me? Soft?” He untangled their hands and snaked his free arm around her waist, drawing her close to his side. When he spoke she could feel his words tickle her cheek. “I’m only soft with you, dear.” </p><p>“Whatever you say, Fairy Boy.” Any teasing response was cut short as she buried her face into the crook of his neck, arms wrapped tightly around his back, revelling in the feeling of warmth, protection and joy this simple action brought her. His own hand shifted to settle on her shoulder and he rested a cheek on her mussed hair, a sigh of contentment falling from his lips as they basked in each other's presence.</p><p>For a moment, she allowed herself to get lost in this sensation. It wouldn’t last, not unless Hylia decided her husband had finally sacrificed enough of himself for her cause. Her Fairy Boy would soon leave her again, chasing unknown foes with a force of children turned soldiers, led down a bloody and brutal trail by a Goddess who cared little for their wellbeing. </p><p>But for now she pushed those thoughts aside and snuggled closer into his embrace, feeling the tension ease out of his shoulders as she did so. The familiar smell of horse hair and cucco feathers mixed with the scent of tree sap and steel, a steady heartbeat echoed in time with her own and calloused hands rubbed circles of reassurance against her skin.</p><p><em> This </em> was home.</p>
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